Cheetoh Breath
by jeannax
Summary: This is my take on what would have happened if Emily and JJ were a couple when Emily was "killed" by Doyle, and JJ hadn't known the truth right away. Will their relationship be able to survive all the secrecy? Will one game be what holds them together when they're oceans apart? Would like to turn into a longer story, depending on reactions! I'm not great at summaries!


Hey guys! This is a story that's been rattling around in my brain for a while now, and I just thought I'd write it out and see where it takes me! I've always loved the idea of Emily and JJ being a romantic couple, seeing as they're both perfect for each other. I wanted to explore what would happen they had been a couple and if JJ hadn't known right away that Emily wasn't actually dead. I'm thinking I want to make this into a longer story, so please read and review so I know there's interest! I do not own any of the characters, or criminal minds. Thanks so much and I hope you guys enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

"_I still run_

_I still swing open the door_

_I still think you'll be there like before_

_Doesn't everybody out there know to never come around_

_Some things a heart won't listen to _

_I'm still holding out for you"_

_\- Still holding out for you - Shedaisy_

JJ's POV

Do you know what it's like to have your world stop? To have everything you ever wanted, all that you hold dear, ripped from your hands in a matter of moments?

I do.

I loved her, god damn it I did. I like to think she knew it. Maybe I didn't say it as often as I should have, I've never been great at talking about my feelings, but I think my actions spoke louder. She could always read me like a book, or so she would brag. If that was true, then she had to know that every page of what I am is written with loving her. Still, when you take stock, you always wish you could have done things differently.

We kept our relationship secret from the rest of the team. Not because we didn't think they would accept us. Hell, Pen would have thrown us some crazy over the top party, and Morgan would have loved slipping innuendos into every other sentence at our expense. We just didn't want to jeopardize our work. Dating within the agency was strictly forbidden, and we weren't willing to risk one of us being transferred. The simple truth of the matter was that having her with me on every case made the hell we make our living off of more bearable.

Still, we should have told them when I went overseas to work in foreign intelligence. The rest of the team thought I was working in DC, but in reality I was stationed in the Middle East. The only person who knew was Emily. We had been dating for a few months before I was commissioned, and it nearly killed both of us. I wanted to fight the order, but we were still a secret, so I couldn't give a viable excuse for needing to stay in Virginia. We had talked on the phone whenever we could, and whenever I got the chance I'd be on the first plane home to her. It had been difficult for both of us, but we had managed it, cherishing every moment we got to spend together.

We had to be very discreet, of course, but it didn't matter. All it took was a hand on my shoulder, a gentle brush of fingertips when she walked by, and my flailing feet would hit solid ground again.

But now I'm plummeting, flying through the air, and she's not here to pull be back down, to steady my aching heart.

I need to be there for my team.

Since we got the news, everyone is shell shocked. I knew the moment the surgeon walked through the doors; it was written all over his face. His clouded green eyes and wrinkled brow to the story of tragedy before the words even left his mouth.

Reid had lowered himself into one of the plastic chairs, eyes wide, shoulders shaking with sobs that were lost in his throat.

Rossi just shook his head, hands clenching into fists as he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway.

Hotch set his jaw, squared his shoulders, and went with the surgeon to talk about next steps.

Penelope collapsed, cries echoing off the drywall, an all too familiar sound in hospitals. More out of reflex, I caught her and managed to get her onto the light blue sofa, holding her while she cried, softly rubbing circles on her back. I offered no words of condolence, reassurance. How could I? My brain had shut off, unwilling to accept that the most important part of my life is gone.

Morgan cried out, chanting "no" like a prayer, running his hands over his head and pacing back and forth.

We're all devastated; how do you deal with such a loss? She lit up all of our lives. She was a rock for every single one of us. She was an anchor, and now she's gone, leaving us floating aimlessly, ships lost in the fog.

I don't regret loving her, I never will. But if I had the chance, I would love her openly, unflinchingly. I would throw caution to the wind and let the brightest part of my life shine so intensley, everyone would be able to see it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Emily's POV

"You have to let me tell them!"

"It's not my call. This is coming from way above my head, I'm sorry, but it's a no."

Hotch's jaw is set, but I can see in his sorrowful brown eyes that this is killing him almost as much as it's killing me.

Almost.

"Hotch, they're all out there, thinking I'm gone! I know Morgan's going to blame himself, you can't-"

"Emily!" Hotch pleads, standing up and going to the foot of my hospital bed, "Doyle is still out there, and as long as he is, he will be hunting you. He very nearly took you away from us! As long as you are alive, he will do everything in his power to get to you. This is the only way for you to be safe, and for us to find Doyle."

"Why can't the team know?"

"Two reasons; one, your undercover work with Interpol is still highly classified, and thus it is their decision whether or not we get to be involved."

"I have no problem with ignoring that order," I mutter, wincing as I try to sit up in bed, "So reason number two better be damn good."

"Doyle will use the team to get to you, Emily. He's not a fool; it's only a matter of time until he finds out about you and JJ, if he doesn't know already."

I pause in my struggle for uprightness, eyes going wide. How did he find out? We had been so discreet, so careful. I mean yeah, I love her more than anything in the world, but I thought I did a good job of hiding it! I had been _especially _careful when Doyle came back into my life.

"What? What are you-"

"Don't Emily," Hotch sighs with a tired wave of his had, "I've known for months."

"How did you…?"

"I'm your boss, it's my job to know," he murmurs, coming over and taking the seat next to me, eyes going soft, "Plus I'm your friend. The moment she walks in a room your whole face lights up, and vice versa. When she went to DC, you were a mess. You don't have to be a profiler to know when two people are crazy about each other. My only question is; how long?"

I look at my hands, unsure of how to answer. I don't want to get JJ in trouble, but, I mean, it's Hotch. Clearly he's going to know if I'm lying.

"A few months before she went to DC."

I leave out JJ's work overseas; it's highly classified. Hell, I'm not even supposed to know about it, but we tell each other everything. That, and I would have hauled ass down to DC to find her is she hadn't explained the long bouts of radio silence.

"I figured as much," Hotch smiles, but then his sullen face returns, "They're sending you to London. You're being medevaced there tonight, in a couple of hours."

"I can't leave," I whisper, not trusting my voice, "JJ."

Just two syllables, but within them, everything I am. Loving JJ came as naturally as breathing, or laughing at Penelope's antics.

We'd fought it as long as we could; obviously it was dangerous to get involved with anyone in our line of work. People got hurt, physically and emotionally, and it's admittedly difficult to maintain objectivity when someone's shooting at my girlfriend. We'd known from the get that it was a risk, and we'd done everything in our power to keep it from happening.

Well, that's not _entirely_ true. I can't speak for JJ, but I know for a fact that I didn't fight all that hard. It was clearly a losing battle, so I didn't see the point.

The bottom line is this; I love JJ for everything she is. She's strong and vulnerable, caring and adorably needy (though she'll never admit it), a bundle of sweet contradictions woven into the beautiful blonde fabric of Jennifer Jereau. There's now way I can leave her behind.

"I made an arrangement that should take care of it."

My head snaps up, and I search his tired eyes for any sign of deception, not that I would find any.

"What are you talking about?

"Once you get to London, you'll need to be given papers for a new identity, a place to live, and a way to communicate with Strauss and myself. You may have done undercover work for Interpol, but you're still _my_ agent, and I need to know you're safe."

I smile softly, touched by Hotch's words. He hadn't liked me, hadn't trusted me when I initially joined the BAU, but, overtime, we had established a level of comradery. I consider him a part of my family, and I like to think he shares the sentiment.

"Interpol told me that they would take care of it. However, I stressed to them that I would be unable to cooperate unless someone I trusted helped you get situated. Strauss shared in my reservations, and Interpol has agreed to send an agent of my choice to meet you there once you get out of the hospital."

I hold my breath. Could it really be true? I can't voice my hopes out loud; words are failing me. So instead I stare at Hotch, waiting for him to finish.

"Jennifer will be flying out in a few weeks. She will be briefed on the situation during the flight, not before."

"Hotch, thank you! Thank you so," I trail off as his words hit me, and I feel the panic rise in my chest, "Why not for a few weeks?"

"Doyle is still out there Emily. We need to get you out of the country and out of the hospital before anyone else knows."

I open my mouth to argue, but Hotch presses on.

"Doyle will almost definitely have men at your funeral, gauging everyone's reaction. I can manage that, but JJ is an open book when it comes to you. Her grief needs to be genuine. She has to bury you, Emily."

I lay back and close my eyes, knowing that I can't argue. He's right; there's now way Doyle is just going to accept that I'm dead; he's way too stubborn for that. He will send people to my funeral, and if they don't see the appropriate amount of greif on everyone's faces, he will see through everything.

"So," I whisper, wishing so badly that I could move enough to gnaw on my fingernails, "what you're saying is-"

"What I'm saying is that until it's safe, the woman you love is going to think you are dead."


End file.
